


Same old

by bukuroshe



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Hallucinations, Hannibal Is Not A Good Guy, I'm Sorry, M/M, Poor Will Graham, Post-Break Up, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:53:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24778708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bukuroshe/pseuds/bukuroshe
Summary: “I was under the impression you liked your partner to be a good cook.”“My tastes have changed.” Will wets his lips. “Yours didn’t, apparently.”Hannibal shrugs and Will continues. “Dark short curly hair, blue eyes. She has a southern accent. Did you miss me that much?”
Relationships: Hannibal Lecter/Original Female Character(s), Molly Graham/Will Graham, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 101





	Same old

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! It's been a while since I thought about writing this fic and tonight I finally found inspiration. Please remember that English is not my first language! Enjoy! <3
> 
> Basically Will is still an FBI profiler and Hannibal is still a psychiatrist. They met and dated (even though Will knew who Hannibal was) but Will broke up with him after he discovered Hannibal hid his encephalitis and they haven't seen each other since!

After he discovered Hannibal had kept silent about his encephalitis, Will had sworn he wouldn’t have returned back to him. No matter what happened.

Apparently, he didn’t keep the promise he made to himself for now he is sitting at Hannibal table with Molly and Hannibal’s preposterous girlfriend, eating _Osso Buco_ and talking about frivolous things. As if nothing ever happened between them.

As if he didn’t know what kind of monster Hannibal was.

But he couldn’t refuse Hannibal’s invitation and Molly had been so persistent about it… His sweet, naïve, innocent Molly. He didn’t deserve her.

“If you will excuse me,” Hannibal says, collecting the empty dishes. “I need to finish the dessert.” He smiles politely and then “would you like to help me, Will?” he asks.

Will’s shoulders tense and he just stares at Hannibal, refraining himself from rolling his eyes. _Not subtle at all, are we, Doctor?_

He slowly and reluctantly gets up from his seat and follows him into the kitchen.

He restlessly bits his lips, all red and abused, then leans on the kitchen island, waiting for Hannibal to speak. When he doesn’t, Will snorts.

“Whose meat was that? The one for the _Osso Buco_?” he asks slowly, voice hoarse.

“An especially rude individual. He had a thing for mistreating and abusing animals, I chose him specifically for you.”

Will laughs nervously. “Well, thanks,” he says, putting his glasses in place. “Should I feel honored?”

Silence follows and Will patiently observes Hannibal. He hasn’t changed a bit. He is still the man Will fell for so hard many years ago. Hannibal opens the fridge, takes out four glass dessert bowls and puts them on a tray. “Panna cotta with strawberry gelée” he says, proudly, approaching Will.

Will takes a moment to appreciate Hannibal’s fine cooking. He had missed it. “It looks good,” Will finally grants him. “And it also looks like you don’t need any help. So why did you ask me to come here?”

Hannibal blinks and stares at Will for what seem an eternity before speaking again. “You lost some weight” he murmurs, eyeing Will’s entire body. Next he shifts his attention on Will’s face, his puffy lips, his nose, his cheekbones and ultimately his eyes. “Is the girlfriend not a good cook?”

Will blushes and looks away, unable to maintain eye contact with him. “Molly’s decent. Not as good as you, obviously,” he admits.

“Obviously” Hannibal mocks him, with that insufferable grin on his smug face. He takes his time to appreciate the look on Will’s face then he turns his back to him and pays attention to the pile of dishes in the sink. “I was under the impression you liked your partner to be a good cook.”

“My tastes have changed.” Will wets his lips. “Yours didn’t, apparently.”

Hannibal shrugs and Will continues. “Dark short curly hair, blue eyes. She has a southern accent,” he lists, approaching Hannibal from behind. “Did you miss me that much?”

Hannibal turns around and closes the gap between the two of them. He place a hand on Will’s neck, just behind his left ear, caressing the skin there. “Yes” Hannibal breaths. He sounds genuine, sincere. He runs his other hand in Will’s hair, playing with his curls.

Will closes his eyes and unconsciously leans into the touch of familiar and warm hands. He can hear the laughter of their girlfriends in the dining room. _If they only knew_.

But-he can’t. He opens his eyes and clenches his jaw. “Or maybe you just wanted to fuck with my head. Wouldn’t even be the first time,” he spits bitterly.

“It’s been two years, Will. Don’t you think I changed?”

“No.”

Hannibal grins. “Clever boy.” He runs his hands down Will’s neck, shoulders, arms and waist, placing them there.

Will growls, showing his teeth. “I may have liked this twisted game of yours before, but now I don’t,” and he rushes out of the room.

The rest of the night is just as unpleasant as their short encounter in the kitchen. Will loathes Hannibal. He can’t seem to resist him, nonetheless.

Finally, around midnight, Molly receives a phone call from his son, Wally, and decides it is time to leave. Will has never been more grateful.

Hannibal escorts them to the door. “I’d love to have you both for dinner,” he smirks. “Again.”

Will shoots him an icy glare.

*

This time, Will thinks, this time he will live up to his promise and he’ll never see Hannibal again.

Obviously, it doesn’t go as planned.

Three weeks after their last encounter, Will hears Molly talking about another dinner that will be hosted by Hannibal. Pretty soon, apparently.

At the thought, he trembles and nearly breaks into a cold sweat.

Hannibal will need to collect the meat for that dinner.

His head hurts. He wants to puke.

It is like when he was sick. He sees red everywhere. There’s blood on the floor, on the walls, spilling all around. He is soaked in it.

He hadn’t been hallucinating since his encephalitis was cured.

He takes a deep breath and goes to see Hannibal.

When Hannibal opens the door, Will doesn’t give him time to greet him. He grips onto his suit and looks at him straight in the eyes. “Don’t kill her,” he whispers.

Hannibal blinks, confused. “Who?”

Will bits his lips, his breathing ragged. “Molly” he says. “He has a son, he’s only twelve years old, they don’t deserve it,” he whines, delirious.

If he takes a glance behind Hannibal, he can see the corpses of all the victims of the Chesapeake Ripper. Bloody and butchered. Like they are coming to get him.

He is hyperventilating.

Hannibal cups Will’s face. “Will, look at me.”

“Please,” he begs.

Hannibal hugs him and takes him inside.

*

As it turns out, Hannibal didn’t go after Molly.

A week later, Will breaks up with her.

*

The two of them are laying naked in Hannibal’s giant double bed. The red silk sheets are welcomed and pleasant on Will bruised skin.

Hannibal, beside him, is asleep. Or so it seems. His right hand is placed softly on Will’s belly, almost sweet.

The clock on the nightstand reads 4:45 in the morning.

Will, however, cannot sleep. How could he fall for this, again? After what he knows and everything he has seen.

He suddenly recalls a conversation he had with his former psychiatrist, Bedelia Du Maurier, not too long ago. It hits him like a ton of bricks.

“Can’t live with him, can’t live without him,” he whispers quietly and his eyes begin to water.

“Did you say something, my love?” Will hears Hannibal mumble into the pillow, eyes still closed.

He sighs. “No.”

He swallows and stares at the ceiling. It bleeds.


End file.
